As We Grow
by mod-soul64
Summary: A new student transfers into Takeshi Yamamoto's class, and at first glance, it seems like they will never get along. Hayato Gokudera is angry and brash, while Yamamoto is endlessly positive. But when the two find themselves increasingly involved with-and attracted to-each other, Gokudera starts to let down his guard. High school AU.
1. rooftop makeouts

This is more or less going to work as a repository for all the 8059 stuff I write, which won't be written and posted in chronological order, but I love these bastards, so it's gonna happen anyways. I write in a normal civilian high school AU, where Yamamoto is still a baseball dork, and Gokudera's still his punkass self, but there's no mafia stuff, as I haven't read enough of the KHR manga to be able to write in the universe comfortably. But I'm fine with that, and I hope you are, too.

In this chapter, Yamamoto finds out that Gokudera is capable of laughter, like, real laughter, laugh-so-hard-your-stomach-hurts laughter. and he thinks that's really cute. Gokudera is wounded, because cute is definitely not the adjective he'd use to describe himself in a one-word autobiography, but he's secretly fond of his dumb baseball jock, so it's not the worst thing that could happen. This chapter takes place somewhere in a transitory part of their story. Not quite near the beginning, but not fully immersed in the depth of their future relationship, either.

* * *

"…That's what happened, anyways."

Yamamoto finished his story with a shrug, picking up the plastic water bottle in his lap and taking a swig as he leaned back against the cool metal of the rooftop fence. The cloudless sky was a bright blue, and the slight spring breeze did its best—and mostly failed—to ruffle his short, spiky hair.

Hearing a strange noise emanate from his left, he paused mid-swallow, raising an eyebrow as he looked in Gokudera's direction. The silver-haired boy was covering his mouth with his hands. His ring-studded fingers slid up into his hair, revealing the grin he was biting back.

"Did you just snort?"

Gokudera glanced at Yamamoto, failing to hide a toothier grin before he glanced away, flushing pink. "What? Shut up."

"Dera," Yamamoto teased, inching closer to the other boy. "What are you laughing at, huh?"

Gokudera let a shuddering, breathy laugh, scooting away and doing his best to look away from Yamamoto. "Nothing! Go away!"

"Dera…" He reached out to touch the boy's shoulder, fingertips brushing his sleeve as he slowly tipped over, curling up, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Yamamoto rested his elbow on his knee, leaning his chin into his palm as he watched the boy with a bemused grin. A few moments later, Gokudera sat up, exhaling a sigh and a final wheeze of a laugh before remembering Yamamoto nearby. He stiffened and glared at the jock.

"What are you looking at?"

Yamamoto grinned and glanced in the other direction, teasing in a singsong voice. "Oh, nothing, it's just…"

"What."

He looked back at Gokudera. "Well, it's just that I've never seen you laugh before."

Gokudera raised an eyebrow, glancing away as he moved closer to Yamamoto. "I laugh all the time," he muttered, almost to himself, as he closed his eyes and let his head rest against the dark-haired boy's shoulder.

"Yeah, well, you've never laughed like _that_ before," murmured Yamamoto as he kissed the boy's hair. Gokudera was silent, exhaling a neutral breath through his nostrils in response. Slowly, his hand crept over to Yamamoto's knee. He paused, then turned, sliding his hand to the boy's other knee, pressing it down gently. Yamamoto obliged and crossed his legs, letting Gokudera lay his head in his lap.

He smoothed the boy's silver hair with his hand and smiled down at him. Gokudera held eye contact for a few moments, reaching for Yamamoto's free hand and bringing it to his lips, closing his eyes as he kissed his knuckles. He moved Yamamoto's hand to his cheek, leaning into his touch and brushing his lips against his palm. Yamamoto stroked his cheek with his thumb, smiling as he felt Gokudera's cheek grow warm under his touch.

Gokudera raised himself to his elbows, then stood up briefly, facing the dark-haired boy as he sat back down in his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Yamamoto smiled and nuzzled the boy, leaning his forehead against his. "Someone's restless."

The silver-haired boy rolled his eyes, pursuing Yamamoto with touches and nuzzles of his own. "Oh, hush." His lips brushed against the other boy's once, then again, kissing him slowly, but with purpose.

Yamamoto held Gokudera close as he returned the kiss, his hands resting on the small of his back, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt as the boy's tongue entered his mouth. He pushed back gently with his own tongue, but went submissive when Gokudera's tongue pressed harder against his, running over his teeth and exploring his mouth, urging a small moan out of his throat. Yamamoto felt Gokudera smile against his lips for a moment and tilted his head as the boy continued to kiss down his neck, nudging the collar of his shirt away to nip and kiss at more of his skin.

Gokudera pulled away a few moments later, but not before placing a final kiss against the tender spot on the other boy's neck. Yamamoto exhaled, leaning in a little to let his lips graze Gokudera's cheek as a small thank you.

"You didn't leave too obvious a mark, did you?"

Gokudera ran a hand through his hair. "Mm, it's not too bad."

Yamamoto smiled and nodded at him. "Alright, cool."

The silver-haired boy nodded silently in response, glancing away as he sucked his cheek in contemplation. "…Did you like it?"

"The kiss? Yeah. You've always been a good kisser, so—"

"No, I meant—" Gokudera sighed, trying to hold back his embarrassment. "When I laughed."

"Oh." Yamamoto grinned at him. "Yeah, I did. It was really cute, and you looked really happy…so, yeah. Though, to be fair, it wasn't much of a funny story."

The corner of Gokudera's lip twitched upward. "I know."


	2. tsundere mixtapes

**So, I know I said that this probably wouldn't update in chronological order, but now I'm writing in that order anyways, so…my bad. But don't worry, I'm sure I'll crank out a prequel to the first chapter when it becomes necessary. There's a plot here, I swear!**

**Anyways, here's something about these dorks giving each other mixtapes and shit. I'd try to create said mixes myself, but I'm abroad right now and 8tracks just won't load for me. That aside, I hope you enjoy this, and thanks for reading!**

* * *

"Gokudera-kun, could you read the paragraph on page 36? ...Gokudera-kun?"

The request did not so much on deaf ears as it did on ones that were otherwise distracted. Gokudera, sitting in the middle of the classroom, had his head on his desk and his earbuds in his ears. His face, hidden in his arms, bobbed almost imperceptibly to the semi-indie music in his iTunes library that, despite his being a terror of sorts, was playing at very much a respectful volume. He wasn't about to let his classmates know that he was listening to bands like Vampire Weekend, Modern Baseball, and The Front Bottoms. They wouldn't even understand the lyrics—granted, neither did he, but at least he looked up the Japanese translation. Fuckers were supposed to fear him, not think he was cool, or worse, friend material, and he'd rather die before letting anyone get that impression.

…Well, he _might_ be okay with one person getting that impression.

He might even want that one person to think of him as more than a friend.

His English teacher closed her eyes and exhaled a breath through her nose, trying to remember the meditation exercises she started the other week. She opened her eyes, and then proceeded to shoot glares at every student within arm's reach of the rebellious teen. He wasn't entirely her responsibility, right? Someone had to take charge, but it wasn't going to be her. Not today.

The girls close to Gokudera fluttered their eyelashes at the boys, offering themselves as prize dates to whatever boy who would be brave enough to get Gokudera's attention. They were willing to do anything, _anything, _to stay away from that weirdo. The boys coughed and shifted in their seats, half tempted by the bribe, half tempted to run out of the classroom to avoid risking Gokudera's eventual wrath.

One meek boy, a member of the school's chess club, lifted a hand, and an audible gasp escaped from the rest of the class as his fingertips brushed Gokudera's shoulder. The silver-haired boy took one—just one—earbud out of his ear, and slowly turned around, giving the boy a chance to send a lengthy prayer to his gods before facing his doom.

Finishing his slow-motion swivel, Gokudera's eyes narrowed and landed on the boy who sat behind him. Hideaki Sakurai seemed like a decent kid. Quiet and intelligent, but not an asshole about it, he was pretty normal, in the grand scheme of things.

"The _fuck_ do _you_ want?" Gokudera asked as he raised an eyebrow, his voice calm, but not without a threat, especially heard in his emphasis of the words 'fuck' and 'you'. He watched his classmate shrink back in his chair and pale as his finger pointed past Gokudera at the front of the classroom. Gokudera followed along where the boy was pointing until his eyes landed on his teacher.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

The woman straightened her posture, trying to assert her position over the teen. "Read from the passage on page 36, please."

Gokudera pursed his lips, weighing the request in his mind for a few seconds before picking his bag up off the floor. Unzipping the bag, he leisurely pulled out his English textbook and flipped a few pages in before pausing and looking at the boy who sat a few desks over next to the window.

"Oi, baseball dork, what page did she want me to read from?"

Yamamoto smiled to himself and rolled his eyes. _He says he doesn't want attention, but then he does shit like this…_

"She wanted you to read from page 36, Gokudera-kun."

Gokudera huffed, unsure if the honorific was just a polite gesture or a tease. Granted, Yamamoto was probably the nicest person on the planet, but that didn't stop him from poking fun sometimes. Either way, it was almost a dig of sorts, considering he never addressed him with honorifics when they were alone.

_He's probably just being polite. Don't worry about it, Hayato._

The teen flipped to the correct page and read the passage with near fluency, his voice purposefully melodious and steady to spite the request made of him. Finishing the last sentence, he closed the book, placed the errant earbud back in, and dropped his head to his desk.

The teacher sighed out of both relief and exasperation—he was difficult, but she couldn't complain for too long—he aced all his English tests and was one of her best students.

"Thank you for participating, Gokudera-kun. Class dismissed."

Squeaks and scrapes escaped from the classroom's metal desks as the students escaped to their lunch break. Yamamoto, pulling two bento boxes out of his backpack, rose and walked over to Gokudera's desk, waiting for the silver-haired boy to acknowledge his presence.

The boy plucked an earbud out and looked up with mild annoyance. "Earbuds in means no talking—we went over this, remember?"

"Yeah, I know, but I wanted to ask something—my teammates and I are having lunch together. Want to join us?"

"Ugh, and watch you freaks do your baseball circle-jerk? No thanks."

Yamamoto smiled. "I knew you'd say something like that, but I figured I'd try anyways. Either way, my dad made you lunch, so you better eat it, okay?"

Gokudera took the bento and muttered his thanks, watching Yamamoto's back as he exited the classroom. Glancing around, he pulled what appeared to be a slim paper square out of his backpack and slid it under the bento, hiding the object from any prying eyes as he walked out of the classroom. Walking to the front of the school, he slowed down, scanning the lockers for a certain name.

Yoshida….Yamashita….Yamamoto, Takeshi.

He stopped and opened the small locker, hesitating briefly before shoving the square object on top of Yamamoto's ragged tennis shoes and bolting away before he could think twice. Plopping down in the shade of a tree, he opened the bento and shoved a piece of sushi in his mouth, attempting to swallow the nervousness away.

_God, calm down, Hayato! It's not like you did anything major! All you did was make him a mixtape. That's it. Just a mixtape. You might as well make one for his dad, to thank him for all the times his sushi has kept you from the brink of starvation. _

Gokudera sighed, frustrated with Yamamoto's endless magnetism. He wasn't romantically involved—not yet, at least—but he knew he liked him. It was freeing, but it also made him freeze up from time to time. There was just something about Yamamoto that made him want to get close to him, but, at the same time, he didn't want to scare him away by moving too fast.

Making someone a mixtape wasn't too much of a romantic gesture…right? Friends could get away with making each other that kind of stuff, but their relationship wasn't a platonic one. To be honest, Gokudera wasn't quite sure what their relationship exactly _was_—not friends with benefits, as the benefits came first, and they didn't have a deep enough understanding of each other to be considered friends—but they weren't a couple, either. They were definitely compatible, but what they were, and what they would become—well, Gokudera would just have to wait and see.

Yamamoto sat on his bed. Headphones in his ears, his thumb hovered over his iPod's play button. Turning the disk in its paper case between his fingers, he paused and reread the scrawled note above the tracklist.

"_A list of songs that made me think of you. Just listen."_

Songs that made me think of you…but in what way? Hopefully a good one. He pressed play and closed his eyes, figuring there was only one way to find out.

Yamamoto was standing at the side of Gokudera's desk the second he sat down. He placed a flash drive in front of the boy, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

The black-haired boy scratched his head sheepishly. "All I listen to is Top 40 and my dad's old vinyls, and I couldn't even find translations for some of the songs on the CD you gave me, and I don't own any blank CDs…but I tried to make something for you, too."

Gokudera blinked once, then another time, staring at the USB for a solid moment before slipping it into his pocket.

"Thanks," he murmured, in some sort of mild shock—or maybe it was bliss, as he moved his hand to hide his growing smile.

It was a good mix. Not the best, but definitely not the worst, either. It had good flow, and variety, and half the songs were love songs, but he actually liked listening to it, bias irrelevant—or so he liked to think.

Gokudera settled back in his desk chair, glancing at Yamamoto as the mix cycled through his headphones on repeat. The boy caught his eye and smiled, leaving him eager for what would happen next.


End file.
